Finding Our Place
by Charon the Sabercat
Summary: Coffeeshop AU: Bumblebee's in charge of the new Earth branch of Optimus's coffee shop. Their cook's too big for the kitchen, their clerk's too small for the counter, most of their customers are ex-convicts, and most of the employees have never worked a day in their life. Bumblebee has a lot of work to do to make the new little store into a place they can call their own.
1. Chapter 1

Finding Our Place, ch. 1

Disclaimer: Transformers: Robots in Disguise coffee shop alternate universe fanfic. All characters are owned by their respective companies, not me, and I write this for fun, not profit, purposes. Developed in tandem with Opatoes, who came up with the original idea. Please support the official release.

* * *

Optimus was standing at the window when Bumblebee entered. Ratchet had pulled him away from an empty lobby to meet with him privately, and it was with no small amount of apprehension that he stepped inside and closed the office door behind him. Optimus was a kind manager, but the situation was still foreboding. Optimus's office was darkened, lit only by a shaded lamp on the corner of a desk littered with work papers and calculating devices and oft-refilled energon mug for his dark blends of fuel to keep him awake. Little trinkets of affection and history covered his shelves, casting tiny shadows against the walls.

"Bumblebee." Optimus met his optics with a quiet smile. "Come, stand by me."

"Nothing's wrong with the shop?" he asked preemptively. "My customers have been-?"

The bigger mech shook his head, ever gentle even with his gestures. "Trust me when I say that I have heard nothing but good things from the mechs you serve. Come. Stand."

With only a slight pause, Bumblebee stepped forward and stood next to Optimus, looking out the window and over Cybertron. Optimus had a beautiful view of Iacon from his office in the back of the restaurant. The city shined a beautiful energon blue from below, flecked with pinpricks of office windows and headlights curving over streets. Bumblebee found himself subtly taking a deep breathe and relaxing, and as Optimus's hand found his shoulder, he let himself fully at peace.

"It is beautiful." Optimus squeezed his small shoulder. "You have done much good for Cybertron, Bumblebee. You have my gratitude."

"A- hum- mmm." Bumblebee flushed infrared and lowered his optics. "No, Optimus, that was mostly you."

"Do not undersell yourself, dear friend." Optimus looked out to the city again, subtly guiding his gaze outwards. "It has been a long time since the end of the war. Our world feels safer now... and you have taken very well to domesticity."

"I like being a waiter." Bumblebee shrugged. "Bulkhead likes being a cook. I think we all kind of missed doing this down-to-Earth stuff."

Optimus's shoulders shook in a tiny, withheld laugh. "And yet, you still use the language of Earth."

Bumblebee's cheeks darkened again. "We spent a lot of time there..."

"That is why I am asking you to go back."

The words hung in the air, waiting until Bumblebee was ready to hear them before they struck him like a hungry Scraplet. Bumblebee staggered, stumbling against Optimus for balance. "Ba- back. Back? Like, back to Earth? As a group? All of us?"

"Not exactly." Optimus held him tight, even as Bumblebee began to shiver. "Bumblebee, I believe you are ready to lead. You are unsuited for a position under me forever..." Optimus smirked. Was that a smirk? Was he smirking at an innuendo? Bumblebee's CPU spun even as he kept talking. "And I want to see you successful as your own mech. I wish to send you to Earth to open another branch of the shop there. Are you open to this idea?"

"I- I- uh- sir-" One deep breath, one clearing of his throat, one squaring of his shoulders, and Bumblebee had his voice back. "I am. Sir."

Optimus's smile faded in that slow, tired way that it so often did. Bumblebee's false confidence crumbled along with it, and it took much of his strength to keep himself upright. "Do not do this out of a sense of obligation, Bumblebee. I will not force this on you."

"I know!" he answered too loudly, too fast, before turning his vocalizer down to acceptable levels. The customers would hear him through the door at this rate. "I know, si- Optimus, sorry... I-it's just a lot of news to take in on short notice. I have faith in you."

"And I, you."

"Thank you..." Bumblebee finally found himself able to smile back, a sincere welling of pride rising up in his spark. Optimus's grin echoed his growing joy. "And I won't let you down." With the initial shock out of the way, questions began to bubble up into Bumblebee's processor. "Are we going to build the place from scratch? Do we have a big Cybertronian customer base on Earth? Who's coming with me?"

"We'll take care of that tonight, when the store has closed and we can concentrate. Ratchet is bringing paperwork." Optimus cast a hard glance to his desk. "A lot of paperwork..."

Intimidated by Optimus's glare, his tall inbox of food truck orders teetered and fell to the floor in a heap. Bumblebee swallowed hard.

His own store, lightyears away from Cybertron, to manage and run on his own for the Earth-based Cybertronian population. Earth, bless the planet he loved it, but it had grown a reputation for being a hive of ex-convicts and pardoned Decepticons after Megatron's self-imposed exile. He'd need a menu, he'd need a theme, he'd need a crew...

What was he going to do for a crew?


	2. Chapter 2

Finding Our Place, ch. 2

Disclaimer: Transformers: Robots in Disguise coffee shop alternate universe fanfic. All characters are owned by their respective companies, not me, and I write this for fun, not profit, purposes. Developed in tandem with Opatoes, who came up with the original idea. Please support the official release.

* * *

It was simultaneously a very exciting and very boring week on Cybertron. Bumblebee leaving and a new shop opening, coupled with building permits and dozens of resumes which had eventually gotten shifted onto Ratchet for handling, tearful well-wishes along with lots and lots of meetings with contractors, and finally the tedious business of buying a reasonably-priced space bridge ticket, but finally Bumblebee was on Earth, opening up the tiny shop for the first time.

It had been kept small on purpose, to keep the overhead low and the staff equally tiny, to serve the relatively small Earth market. The front door, nested between two bay windows, opened up into a small customer area with four round tables with three chairs each, plus a little bookshelf for magazines and newspads, whenever they started collecting them. To Bumblebee's right, a counter with a showcase for snacks and a register, backed by a wall with a window looking into the one-mech kitchen. A little hallway to the left of the kitchen lead to two little washrooms and finally a littler staircase leading upstairs to the lounge and office, where he would be spending most of his time, like Optimus did.

It was homey, in clean pastel-y colors to complement the local Earth foliage. The whole building smelled overwhelmingly of fresh paint, which Bee enjoyed but he would probably need to air out before any paying customers came in. His optics snapped to the biggest difference between the main shop and the newest one; small tracks running along the walls, sliding into catwalks hanging from the ceiling and running down to the counter, kitchen, and lounge. They were Minicon railings, an accommodation that Bumblebee rarely saw outside of Minicon cities and only the most inclusive of public offices.

Bumblebee was not expecting the knock on the door behind him, but perhaps the timing was perfect. His mind was already on Minicons, which meant he automatically looked down to meet his newest employee, who introduced himself.

"Fixit reporting for work, sir!"

"Good to meet you, Fixit." Bumblebee knealt to shake Fixit's small claw, obligingly turning on the lights for the Minicon as he rolled into the room. He recognized the bot from one of the dozens of resumes he'd gone over, and while it had mentioned he was punctual, he couldn't help but remark, "But the store doesn't open 'til tomorrow."

"Oh, I know!" The Minicon flitted about the room, heedless of Bumblebee's information. "But I needed to make sure the store fit in me! Or- um-" His nervous wheeling about quickly shifted into nervous gesticulating. "Or, rather, that I fit in the store- no, that I could get in the st- OH look, railings!" Away he rolled from the conversation, whipping around a counter and, near instantly, motoring about on top of it. "Just the right angle! Easy access!" Fixit made a profound gasp, palming over the register datapad. "And the keypad scales!"

"To any size you need." Fixit's enthusiasm was infectious. Bee bounced on his feet as he went around the store, opening windows and turning on vents to wick the paint smell out of the walls. He casually turned away from Fixit to concentrate on the thermostat. "I'm glad you like the place, Fixit. You're gonna be great with the customers."

"Oh, it's going to be drastic!"

Bee's head snapped around to Fixit, who's optics had gone wide and slightly panicked. "Spastic!"

The Minicon violently whacked himself in the chest, and even from where he stood, Bee could hear the little bot's circuits hard-resetting. "FANTASTIC!"

Bumblebee pulled up Fixit's resume in his heads-up display and began going over it. He tried not to let Fixit know. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine! It's just some battle damage!" Fixit focused back into the world, gently rubbing where he had struck himself. "Little kink in the hiring- wiring!"

Talk about a kink in the hiring. Bumblebee noted a little red mark on the bottom of Fixit's resume, in Ratchet's handwriting. It was only an internal memo, not meant to be read by anyone but Ratchet and maybe him, eventually.

"Faulty wiring due to past injury. Stutter. Recommended kept away from positions requiring heavy customer interactions. Option: 12." Added even farther underneath, still in red, "Hired."

The Option 12 caught Bee's attention, and he began to leaf through the other resumes submitted for Fixit's position. "Option 1. Not hired: didn't show up for interview." "Option 2. Not hired: Disrespectful." "Option 3. Not hired: Work history spot, sketchy behavior noted in interview." "Option 4. Not hired; turned down position for being 'too backwater'."

Again and again, mechs with better work history, more experience, more references, all turned down or turning down the job themselves for refusing to work on Earth, until he arrived at Fixit, whose only prior job had been working on a prison ship full of Decepticons in suspended animation. Alone.

"Say, Fixit..." Bumblebee silently closed all the files, snapping back into the real world too quickly for his liking. "Have you ever worked in food service before? Even before the war?"

"Nope! I worked on a ship called the Alchemor as an all-purpose candyme- sandymec-" Fixit whacked himself again, and Bumblebee visibly flinched at the strength he used to correct his glitch. "HANDYMECH! And janitor!"

"And you..." Oh, he felt like an aft for asking this. "You didn't want to go into a position more like that?"

"Oh no, sir!" Fixit, bless his spark, answered with all the pep and innocent joy of a newbuild, which only made Bumblebee feel worse. "All those solar cycles of being on a ship with no one else to talk to, spending hour after lonely hour never saying a curd-" Bumblebee flinched at the sound of metal on metal. "Word! I can't wait to talk to all the customers!"

"Yeah..." Bumblebee cleared his throat. That was no way to act to someone so enthusiastic to work. "True. Sorry I doubted you."

"Oh that's all right, sir. Ratchet doubted me too," Fixit cheerily replied, occupying himself with the register. "But I know what I'm capable of, and I can help. Believe me."

"I do," Bumblebee replied automatically, and not long after he said it, he did.

That thought in mind, though, he dedicated tonight to looking over the resumes of the employees coming in. He didn't want there to be any more surprises.


	3. Chapter 3

Finding Our Place, ch. 3

Disclaimer: Transformers: Robots in Disguise coffee shop alternate universe fanfic. All characters are owned by their respective companies, not me, and I write this for fun, not profit, purposes. Developed in tandem with Opatoes, who came up with the original idea. Please support the official release.

* * *

Nothing was quiet as disenchanting at going through 34 different resumes that said "I refuse to work at this establishment because it's too far away" in different words every time. Bee shut down for the night knowing that his two newest employees were under-experienced, under-traveled, and possibly going to hate the jobs they had applied for.

Bee arrived the next morning to two employees waiting for him at the employee entrance, bright and early and ready to work, and that was one more than he expected. The third bot was running a little late, which he expected for a 3:00 a.m. clock-in time. Perhaps today wouldn't be too terrible. Fixit, he already knew, and he shook hands with the young SUV as soon as they were close enough. "Good morning, ma'am."

"Sir." She nodded in curt greeting and immediately deployed her employee handbook. "You're 2 minutes early for opening. Permission to clock in early and begin my kitchen duties?"

Bumblebee couldn't help but laugh. "Sure, um..." and after a quick check, "Strongarm. Permission granted."

"Thank you, sir!" With a small military salute, Strongarm turned to stand by Bumblebee as he unlocked the door, rushing inside before Fixit could even get in a greeting edgewise.

"Pardon me! Wipe your feet first! It's wet outside!" Fixit rushed in behind her. "They misted the planet before we got here!"

"That's not- oh jeez." Bumblebee laughed and shut the door behind him, flipping on lights as he went. "Fixit, help out in the kitchen 'til we open up for the public, please! Thank yo-"

Two things happened in short order. Fixit whipped around on one wheel and rushed the kitchen door, optics shining, eager and ready to help. As he did, Strongarm stepped out of the kitchen and into the doorway, blocking the Minicon with her feet.

"Sir, with all due respect, that's against the rules in the employee handbook." Out came the holopamphlet, beaming out of Strongarm's arm and hovering between her and Fixit. "Counter staff and kitchen staff are to keep contact to a minimum during work hours to prevent blocking workflow traffic. All transactions are to be taken, unless unavoidable, through the serving window located at storefront."

Floored by rules, Bumblebee and Fixit shared a quick look, looking for answers from each other. Seniority demanded that Bumblebee speak first. "That... is true. But we're not opening for the public for another hour and a half-"

"With all due respect, sir," Strongarm interrupted. "I will only be sharing the kitchen, in shifts, with one other employee, and he's not here yet. I don't need this Minicon's help-"

"Pardon me, ma'am!" Fixit interjected. "I see you don't know my name, yet, my apologies for the lack of formal introduction. My name is Fixit, and-"

Strongarm nodded in Fixit's direction and immediately spoke back to Bumblebee. "I don't need Fixit's help in the kitchen. I didn't make the rules, sir."

"... right. Fixit," said Bumblebee a little too loudly. "Why don't you help me set up the tables and chairs instead?"

"Um... gladly, sir."

Strongarm didn't move, and neither did Fixit, and neither did Bumblebee for a solid, heavy minute before he sighed and took a step. Like a switch being flipped, Strongarm dipped back into the kitchen and Fixit fell into step beside Bumblebee, claws nervously hooked together. He didn't speak again until they were both in the lobby and Bumblebee had a chair in his hands.

"I wouldn't be in the way," said Fixit as quietly as possible. Sound carried in a tiny, echoing space. "There are tracks installed through the building, and they don't take floor space-"

"Strongarm is... just very protective, Fixit," Bumblebee answered, equally quietly. "She's enrolled in a law enforcement academy now, comes from Praxus, this is her first job... I understand if she wants to feel like she has a workspace all to herself. Give her a little time, and she'll warm up to you."

"Do you think so?" Fixit held up a hand. "A lift, please. Thank you," as Bee lifted him onto the table, where he dutifully refilled a napkin dispenser. "I suppose that makes sense. I just don't want to get in the splay- fray-" There came the crack of metal. "Way!"

"Is everyone okay?!" Strongarm's entire upper body shot through the kitchen window, balanced on her palms and surveying the store. "I heard punching!"

"We're fine, Strongarm, thank you." Bumblebee waited until Strongarm was satisfied and back in her window before continuing. "See? She'll look out for you. Just respect her privacy until she's ready for you."

"I... that makes sense, too. Thank you. Another table, please?"

The store cleaned beautifully, and the hum of the mixer and the energon steamer coming online made all three employees take a long, relaxed breath. All that was left for the very last employee to arrive, despite him being 30 minutes later. A hour followed thirty minutes, and opening after that, and Bumblebee was starting to feel like he'd taken that relaxing breath far too soon, especially when Fixit started making small talk through the ordering window to Strongarm's ambivalence, growing annoyance, and (to Bumblebee) increasing awkwardness. It was nearly 6:00 a.m. before they had a customer, and he strolled into the shop like he owned it, all smiles and loud, booming voices.

"Good morning!" The big wall of green greeted everyone he could see, one by one. "Mornin'! Good mornin'! You guys the new place? I had to find you by smell! You don't have a sign!"

He could have dropped a filament and Strongarm would have heard it in the back.

"We don't?!" Bumblebee bolted out the door, skidding to a stop in the empty street and looking up. Outdoor tables, clean windows, two stories, awning, and a big bare patch of concrete where the sign was supposed to be. "We don't! Where's the sign?! It's supposed to be a perfect replica of the one back on Cybertron!" He heard the door's bell sound, distantly, unable to tear his optics away from the building. "Strongarm?"

"Did I hear you say it's supposed to be identical?" Handbook deployed, Strongarm summarized, "You're opening a new branch, not a franchise. You can't have the sign be identical to the one back on Cybertron. They probably stopped the order at the manufacturing plant to prevent copyright infringement."

The door chimed again, and along with Fixit's little whirring wheels, the customer stuck his head out and kept right on chatting. "So, if I found you before you got the sign, can I get a discount? I mean, I don't need one, but that'd be cool, right?"

"I can put in an order for a new one and it'll be here in a few days!" Fixit chirped. "What's the business name aga-"

"NOBODY TALK FOR A MINUTE!"

Nobody talked. Bumblebee seethed in place, rubbing his optics so hard they started leaving feedback. "I'm going to call Cybertron. Fixit, Strongarm, watch the front. Whatever this customer wants, give it to him for free. Sir, I apologize for the trouble. I'll be in my office."

Bumblebee stalked up the stairs as fast as he could.

The customer cleared his throat. "So, I get a free coffee now, right?"


	4. Chapter 4

Finding Our Place, ch. 4

Disclaimer: Transformers: Robots in Disguise coffee shop alternate universe fanfic. All characters are owned by their respective companies, not me, and I write this for fun, not profit, purposes. Developed in tandem with Opatoes, who came up with the original idea. Please support the official release.

* * *

Bumblebee spent a long time on the phone with Cybertron. The sign, yes, had been rejected and he had gone uninformed. The other employee, yes, had decided last minute that he didn't want to work and had simply stayed home. Optimus had not been available for advice due to heavy customer flow, which reminded Bumblebee, distantly, how that nice green customer was doing. Downstairs smelled delicious. Strongarm must have been fixing something specifically nice for him.

As the thought left his processor, he knew that sounded entirely wrong and rushed out of the safety of his office, whipping around the corner and checking the front lobby. Other than smelling nice, sounds of cooking coming from the kitchen, it was empty. Bumblebee could see mechs outside, through the windows, one new customer sipping a coffee and Strongarm strongly addressing a red mech just outside the door. Fixit must have been cooking. Bumblebee huffed in happy relief. Nothing like a little real work to get Fixit and Strongarm to work together.

"Thanks for watching the kitchen, Fixit."

A deep, growling voice replied, "No problem."

Bumblebee turned so hard he left tracks on the brand new floor. The customer was in the kitchen. He wasn't just in the kitchen, he was cooking! He had been cooking! He was taking a pan of cookies out of the oven even as Bumblebee watched, with more trays baking inside! Entirely too big for the compact room- he must have been something big like a Buffaloid or a Dinobot- he had the manners to look embarrassed and grinned at Bumblebee apologetically.

"I washed my hands?"

"Um... sir." Bumblebee very gently placed one hand on the door frame so he could subtly throttle it. "Who let you into the kitchen."

"Strongarm did!" The customer's fingers danced along the pan, probably hot and he was holding it bare-handed oh wow, as he spoke. "There was some kid outside trying to tag the building and she started readin' him the riot act, so she was all 'Fixit watch the kitchen!' and then Fixit said somethin' about getting soap to clean off the paint, and he was all 'watch the kitchen!' so I did, but I got bored, so I got bakin' and made that other guy a coffee."

He took his time to absorb all the information. "You served someone a coffee."

"Yep! Charged him $1.25, just like on the menu."

"That... wow. Um, thank you." First sale of the day, and he missed it. He missed it and it was made by someone who didn't work at the shop. The customer finally put down the cookie tray in the serving window and reached into one of his subspace pockets, holding out two bills.

"I didn't know how to get into the register, so I just made the change myself."

"... wow." Bumblebee numbly took the bills. "I'll... I'll make sure you're reimbursed, sir... what's your name?"

The tall bot flashed Bee a wide, jagged-toothed, and crooked grin. "My name's Grimlock!"

Whatever discussion Strongarm was having outside had turned into a clamor, and something crashed where Bee couldn't see it. Systems went to high alert, and Bee quickly backed out of the door. "Grimlock, you stay here and keep doing what you're doing I'll be right back thank you!"

The lobby was gone in two strides, and the door flew open to Strongarm slamming the red mech against the door frame face-first despite his loud protests. A single customer, with his coffee and the smuggest of smirks, watched the entire thing as if it were his own personal theatre. His legs crossed at the ankle, leaned back into his chair, the only movement that came from him were little flicks of his tail and the occasional sip.

"Sir! I caught this punk in the act of graffiti-in- graffiting-" Strongarm growled at herself and her lack of linguistics and squeezed the red mech against the building again. "He was spray-painting our building!"

"I didn't know you were using it!" He snapped back. "Make her let me go!"

"Strongarm, you do not have the authority to make arrests on your own!" Bumblebee shouted. "You! What makes you think it's a good idea to tag random walls?!"

"It's not random!" answered the red mech smugly. "It's my turf."

The tailed customer laughed from behind him, and Bumblebee could feel his energon boiling with humiliation. "Okay, look. You. Name."

It was amazing how the mech managed to look prideful even with Strongarm's hand mashing him into concrete. "Sideswipe."

"Sideswipe, I'm willing to let you off without any trouble if you clean off what you painted."

Strongarm shouted as if Bumblebee had punched her across the face. "Sir!"

"No need for that!" Fixit peeked out from around the corner of the alley, covered in soap suds and paint transfers. "I've already eliminated the unsightly mark!"

"Unsightly?!" Sideswipe snarled.

"OKAY, nevermind. Look, Sideswipe, you can work off the damages inside." Bumblebee thumbed towards the door, and took a small amount of satisfaction in the dread in Sideswipe's face. "You're our table busser for the next three days."

Strongarm tensed as if she wanted to pop Sideswipe's arm out of its socket. "SIR!"

"We're already short one team member!" Bumblebee explained, "And I doubt you want to be stuck on table duty for the rest of your shift."

"I'm not tables!" Strongarm shouted. "I'm kitchen staff!"

"You were kitchen staff, until you let a random customer into the back and he started cooking for us!"

The tailed customer started to laugh again, out loud and unabashed and oozing with smug satisfaction. Bumblebee could feel the shame rippling through his field. The only thing keeping his face steady was the matching looks of humiliation on Strongarm and Fixit's faces, and Sideswipe even looked oddly affronted from his spot against the wall. The red mech sighed, long and obvious in a cry for attention, and gently wiggled himself out of Strongarm's grasp.

"I'll... meet you inside." Sideswipe gently stroked his scuffed cheek. "Once I get cleaned up back home."

Strongarm's scowl was barely contained. "We have the supplies you need in the public washroom."

"I don't even get enough privacy to get my dignity back?!"

"Inside! NOW!"

"I, um, better get back to the senator- creditor-" Fixit whacked himself in the face, splattering the sidewalk with bubbles. "REGISTER! Sir. Um. Pardon me!"

The three bots gave him a wide berth, heading inside to Grimlock's loud and cheerful greetings.

The customer was still laughing. Bee didn't want to face him. Bee didn't want to even look at him.

Bumblebee turned to the customer. "I'm sorry about all of that. I'll get you a refund for that coffee."

"Oh no," the customer purred, voice sweetened and deep and rich like the drink held in his claws. "Don't even think of it, 'sir'. That little show was well worth the price of concessions. I'll be coming back here every day if I can see more of that."

First repeat customer, and Bumblebee already hated him.


	5. Chapter 5

Finding Our Place, ch. 5

Disclaimer: Transformers: Robots in Disguise coffee shop alternate universe fanfic. All characters are owned by their respective companies, not me, and I write this for fun, not profit, purposes. Developed in tandem with Opatoes, who came up with the original idea. Please support the official release.

* * *

Grimlock's head popped out of the serving windows about an hour later. "If nobody else shows up, can I eat the rest of the cookies?"

A heavy yellow head bounced down onto the counter. "No, Grimlock," Bee grumped. "That's stock for later today."

"But I made 'em!" Grimlock fussed. "Why can't I eat 'em?"

Sideswipe chortled from the corner of the lobby, twirling a broom handle in his fingertips and defiantly not sweeping the floor. The happy smug customer had never left his spot, and even now was watching through the window, even if his vantage point was mostly Strongarm's angry back guarding the door. "He's got a fair point there."

"I'd wait until the place was closed..."

"And you know what, that's another thing," Bumblebee interrupted, lifting himself just enough to glare at the Dinobot. "Why haven't you left?"

Grimlock shrugged from inside the kitchen, a hint of a smile on his face. "I'm too big to get through the door?"

Sideswipe laughed again, and Fixit's claws twiddled nervously even as Bumblebee groaned and fell back onto the counter. It had been a slow, miserable few hours of no one. The only customer had been Mr. Smug And Self-Righteous, who'd ordered one more coffee and spent a good five minutes Pointedly Not Laughing at Fixit's stutter. Bumblebee's tank had been running low, as he'd spent the last few hours staying within sight of Sideswipe, neglecting to refuel in the process. Strongarm hadn't even tried to get back into the kitchen, but she seemed to have found a new job bullying Sideswipe into doing whatever menial task she could think of. Grimlock had just kept on cooking whatever recipe he could get his hands on, burning at least one batch of crullers because he'd gotten into a conversation with Fixit and forgotten about them.

Bumblebee sighed. "I'm tired, I'm hungry, and no one's shown up... our first day, and it's a disaster."

"Wait, you're hungry?" Grimlock asked, peering down at him from the window. "Why don't you eat the leftover cookies?"

"Technically speaking, Mr. Grimlock, we're not allowed to take anything out of the store's stock for personal use," Fixit explained, pulling up a copy of the employee handbook on his register screen. "Doing so would be appropriating fung-" A strike to his face knocked him back into place. "FUNDS from the till."

Grimlock touched his chin in thought. "What if I bought something and gave it to him? That count?"

Bumblebee grunted into the counter. "We're not supposed to take gifts from customers."

"We can't? That does it, I quit this job," Sideswipe snarked. "The benefits are terrible."

He couldn't find the energy to respond. Bumblebee sank his head into his arms, leaning into the dark, safe place he made for himself. When Optimus opened the Cybertron branch, there had been enough customers to clean out the showcase by lunch. If this was their first day, and they couldn't even create positive word-of-mouth for the store, then they were dead in the water. All that work, all the money sunk into the store, all the faith Optimus had put in him... all for nothing.

Strongarm's footsteps approached him, and even for an empty store, it was so quiet. "Sir?"

He didn't want to get up. He'd let down his team, what little one he had, and they deserved better than this. Slowly, measuring each motion to keep himself steady, Bumblebee pushed himself upright and leveled off his shoulders. "Everyone, I'm sorry about today. We're going to close up early, and all of you can go home."

"Close?" Fixit sounded almost sad, checking a little pop-open window with the day's schedule on his register. "But we don't close until 4:00!"

"I'm not going to make you all sit here and do nothing for hours because I messed up a sign order." Bumblebee reached across and tapped the register open, fetching seventy-five cents from the drawer and sliding it closed as he spoke. "Sideswipe, you don't need to come back tomorrow. Strongarm, Fixit, I'll call you if the store reopens and work out your paychecks from there."

"If?" Grimlock cowered in the window, claws grasping at the edges. "You're not gonna come back?"

"There's only enough money in reserve to keep the store open for about a month, taking into account that no customers come in."

Bee gave one last look out the windows. The customer had finally left, his coffee tipped over and spilling out over his table. He sighed as though he were breathing water. Everything felt heavy at the moment.

What was he going to tell Optimus?

"I'm gonna go upstairs and see what I can do about the sign."

He had gotten lost in his thoughts. When Bumblebee looked back out of the veil over his mind, he saw his team already in mourning. Strongarm's shoulders sagged, doors drooping against her back. Sideswipe had pulled into himself, silently gripping the rubber handle of the broom and staring intently into the floor. Fixit ran a mournful claw over the keypad, too embarrassed to look back to him.

Bumblebee couldn't seen Grimlock behind him, but he did feel a long-fingered hand gently coming down on his shoulder. "Don't leave," Grimlock pleaded. "I don't even know your name yet."

Everything was heavy. Bumblebee gently pulled Grimlock's hand off his shoulder and left, automatically walking up and into his office and down into his chair, resting his head in his arms, just resting until he could think.

Downstairs, Grimlock had just watched him go, shrinking in his little window. "I don't know his name," he finally said once Bumblebee's footsteps couldn't be heard. "I haven't even seen him smile yet."

"Man, I..." Sideswipe wrung his hands against the broom handle. "I-I didn't mean to, like... If I'd have known he'd get this upset over a little paint, I would've gone someplace else!"

"It's not your fault, Sideswipe," Strongarm said quickly. "He did forget to order the sign." Strongarm flinched as Fixit shot her a strong, glowing glare. "But we... could have been more supportive."

"This is just about getting people in the store, right?" Sideswipe asked. "I mean, Grimlock's stuff smells delicious. Hell, if I had any money I'd be buying, like, the whole bottom shelf. I'm starving."

"I wouldn't know what to charge you!" Fixit blurted out. "None of the items Grimlock's been baking are on the fescue- v-venue-" Grimlock began to reach down, but Fixit blocked his hand quickly and smacked himself across the chest. "MENU."

Sideswipe jolted up from the wall like he'd been electrocuted, but he was smiling, wide and sincere like a bot who'd discovered raw blue energon ready to eat. "OH! IDEA! I know how to get people here! I've just gotta get home!"

Strongarm's brows snapped to attention first, followed by the rest of her as she spoke. "And we can trust you to come back?"

"Trust me!" Nervously realizing he'd been squeezing dents into the broom, he passed it to Strongarm. "It's a 10 minute drive away and then a space bridge and then back, but I'll come back, I swear! I know something I can do to get people's attention!"

Strongarm caught his optics and searched, Sideswipe gazing back in absolute sincerity. They checked each other, her resolve versus his enthusiasm, looking for any signs that the other wasn't in tune.

Strongarm nodded. "Safe travels, Sideswipe. Grimlock, if this works, we'll need fresh goods fast."

"I know how to make minute icing!" he bellowed.

Strongarm took her broom in hand, planting it against the floor. "Team! Let's sell some pastries!"


	6. Chapter 6

Finding Our Place, ch. 6

Disclaimer: Transformers: Robots in Disguise coffee shop alternate universe fanfic. All characters are owned by their respective companies, not me, and I write this for fun, not profit, purposes. Developed in tandem with Opatoes, who came up with the original idea. Please support the official release.

* * *

His office was roomy from a lack of furniture. He had a little desk, two office chairs and one armchair in the corner next to a bookcase. His wall-spanning bookshelf was empty, and while the sun was out and facing his window, his heavy blinds kept the room's light to a gentle, soothing orange glow. Tucked against the wall was a little cot, something he could unfold and recharge in if he needed. In the warmth of midday, bathed in gold and utter quiet, Bumblebee could have just prepared his bed and rested until he felt better. He had, of course, powered down in his desk chair half-sprawled over a hard wooden table.

Someone patted him between his wings. Bee bolted upright, office lights wirelessly flaring on in his panic. His battle systems revved to the ready, followed by his CPU and then a fresh wave of embarrassment. He was almost certain his cheeks were glowing from his blush.

Grimlock stood over him, completely unbothered and still smiling. "Hey. You have a good nap?"

"I- um..." Bee tucked himself a little farther under his desk, hunkering down in his chair and trying to scoot away from the larger bot. Grimlock watched him with that same, smiling patience. "I'm so sorry, Grimlock, I-"

"Hey, I'd be grumpy too if I needed a nap that bad." Grimlock held his shoulder in one big hand. "Bet you got up super early. You wanna see downstairs?"

"... why?" was all Bumblebee could think to ask. "Is something happening downstairs?"

"Downstairs is awesome! Come see!"

Grimlock took his hand and pulled Bumblebee up to his feet like he was a Minibot, and he was honestly almost offended, but Grimlock did all his manhandling with such a gentle, innocent air that Bumblebee didn't quite care. He did care when Grimlock lifted him up and over the desk and dangled him for a few seconds before dropping him to the floor.

"Follow me," Grimlock rumbled in what was supposed to be a whisper. "And be quiet. You'll wanna see everybody working like normal."

"Covert observation," Bee summarized. Grimlock responded with a blank look. "Nevermind. I'm following you."

Grimlock gave him a big, toothy grin and pulled him along by the shoulder, out the office, through the break room, and straight downstairs.

Bumblebee, for the first time since leaving Cybertron, heard the babble of customers and the gentle hum of a happy crowd. Even the little sliver he could see from the hallway let him see filled tables and Strongarm cleaning up discarded cups and napkins. Grimlock put an arm around his waist and pulled him into the kitchen, letting him peek out of the serving window.

"That'll be $13.54." Fixit scanned the new customer's card quickly, handing it back with the receipt. He zipped down to the dessert showcase and pulled out a few tiny energon mini-cheesecakes, bagged them, and passed the Minicon-sized package back to the pair of customers. "Thank you, and enjoy your food!"

Strongarm cleared an empty table, only for more people to take their place.

Sideswipe, outside, entertained passersby on a cyr wheel.

Fixit, in a moment without customers, tucked away $100 in bills in the safe.

"They..." Bumblebee couldn't believe his optics, resetting them a few times and rubbing them with his thumbs. "Am I still asleep?"

"Nah! Sideswipe went home and got a thingy to get people in the door, and we've all been workin' together since." Grimlock watched him, leaning in close. "So? You feel better now? I gotta tell everybody if you do."

"You did all of this... because I was upset?"

Grimlock corrected, "We did all of this 'cause you were upset." Grimlock's smile didn't drop, but it got a little smaller. "Strongarm's got the words down better than me. She said she was gonna say 'em after we closed, so... can you wait thirty minutes?"

They were a long 30 minutes until closing. Bumblebee spent most of it on the phone once again with the sign company, postponing his order until further notice. At 25 minutes he went downstairs to an empty store. Customers gone, dessert case emptied, coffee machines turned off, his team all gathered together in the lobby taking the till and nibbling at the last of the cookies. They'd accomplished all of this without him. They had done their best while he was upstairs stone-cold asleep. A heavy weight fell into Bumblebee's tank at the realization, and for what felt like forever, he only stood in the hallway, watching them and feeling completely useless.

It was Fixit that finally checked to see if he was there, and the little bot jumped so hard he nearly fell off the table. "B-B- he's awake!"

They rushed him like a pack of bumblepuppies, Fixit at the forefront with Sideswipe bringing up the rear.

"We turned a profit!" Fixit announced. "We even met the goal you put in your budget!"

"And I helped!" Sideswipe called from the back.

"B- sir," Strongarm said, interrupting herself. "We're all sorry about the way we acted today. You put a lot of faith in us, and when you took it hard instead of lashing out at us..."

His little crew exchanged their own little looks, nodding in agreement with each other.

Grimlock then had him in a massive hug before Bumblebee realized he was tearing up, and he laughed his way through what would have been wracking sobs.

"I don't have to get in on this, do I?" Sideswipe asked.

Grimlock quickly had Sideswipe and Strongarm in on the hug, with Bee in the middle, embarrassed and happy and proud.

As soon as they were all released, Bumblebee wiped his optics as quick as he could and spoke, "I can't get mad at a team like this! You all did amazing! Now, granted, the beginning of the day was a little rough-"

"I knew you would bring that up," Sideswipe grumped.

"-but I think we can fix that with a little reorganizing."

Bumblebee took a deep breath, the obvious pieces falling into place, and started doing some rough calculating in his head. "Grimlock, I'd like to hire you as our new kitchen mech."

"Really?!" Grimlock hollered. "You'd get me a job here?"

"Gladly. There's already room for you in the budget." Bumblebee could feel Strongarm bristling and quickly added, "Strongarm, I don't think you would have liked the kitchen anyway. I think I'd like to switch your duties around and move you to 'security'."

"I don- 'security'? Hold on a second." Up went the rulebook, a different color than Bumblebee was used to seeing, and he distantly recognized that he was looking at a different book. Strongarm recited, "Students may also earn credits outside of school hours by participating and/or becoming employed in fields related to their major." Down went the rulebook, and Strongram delightedly bounced on her toes. "Does this mean I can put this down on my academy coursework? And I could graduate early working here?"

"Sounds right to me!"

"Do you think we need the sec-sec-sec-sec-" Fixit reset himself with a whack. "Security?"

"If Sideswipe agrees to a job," Bumblebee explained, "Yeah."

"Wait, me too?" Sideswipe's jaw hung open for a few stunned milliseconds. "Like, just on the spot? Doing what?"

"Bussing tables when we're slow." Bumblebee smirked when Sideswipe chafed at the statement. "But normally, I'd like you to entertain people outside, like I saw you doing on your cyr wheel. You won't make much in salary, though, but you're welcome to collect tips on top of that."

"Dude, I would be collecting tips anyway! Now I have that AND a salary AND cookies whenever I want?" Sideswipe laughed and pumped his fist in victory. "Best job ever!"

"Bu-but there's no room in the budget for him!" Fixit pointed out. "We're only supposed to be a four-mech staff!"

Bumblebee shrugged. "I'll take the difference out of my paycheck."

His crew, collectively, "woah"ed.

Grimlock rumbled, "I have never heard a manager say that ever."

Bumblebee laughed, honestly laughed. Everything finally felt right, and his crew- his friends- started to laugh along with him. Grimlock pulled them all into another hug, even Fixit who loudly protested being too short to get caught up in the hugging naturally until Sideswipe hackey-sack kicked him into his open palm.

The Dinobot then dropped all of them. "OH RIGHT."

Grimlock took Bumblebee's hand again, shaking it like a gentleman, and with purpose slowly said, "My name is Grimlock. What's your name?"

This whole day, and Bumblebee never told him his name. He laughed and shook the clawed hand. "I'm Bumblebee."

Grimlock beamed, and Bumblebee blushed.

"Oh GOD that is enough cute! I regret everything!" Sideswipe complained. "'Hey, Sideswipe, where do you work?' Oh nowhere, just down at the who-the-hell-knows with the bossy not-a-cop, the clearance rack Minibot, and the Dinobot who can't stop making goo-goo optics at the manager!"

"What IS the name of the business, by the way, Bumblebee, sir?" Fixit deflected, saving Bumblebee's face with no subtlety whatsoever. "I had people in here today that couldn't make out checks!"

"I've been thinking about it, actually. Sideswipe, do you still have your spray paint?"

Bumblebee closed the door behind him, and Strongarm, Grimlock, and Fixit watched while Sideswipe effortlessly scaled the side of the building and balanced on the window sills. With the practice born of a great many times tagging from funny angles, Sideswipe painted on the temporary sign. He used big letters, a touch he felt reflected Grimlock, and hard angles for the Dinobot's claws and Strongarm's harsh attitude. Little star flourishes in the letters brought out Fixit's sense of energy, and while the quick strokes reflected his own sense of style, he kept the words bold and easy to read from a distance. This, Sideswipe thought, was Bumblebee, making things clear for everyone even with the limited resources at their disposal. Fitting, as Sideswipe had only brought along one color.

Written above their door was "Our Place".


	7. Chapter 7

Finding Our Place, ch. 7

Disclaimer: Transformers: Robots in Disguise coffee shop alternate universe fanfic. All characters are owned by their respective companies, not me, and I write this for fun, not profit, purposes. Developed in tandem with Opatoes, who came up with the original idea. Please support the official release.

* * *

Bee got the impression that everyone had gone to bed far too late, but in an excited sort of way. Everyone met at the back door with exhausted smiles minus Sideswipe, who immediately went to the break room and fell asleep in a chair. Bee let him; he did kind of have this job thrust upon him overnight. Strongarm and Fixit both popped into their daily duties to get their motors running while Grimlock had to guzzle a big mug of energon to really kick into gear. Bumblebee pulled his energy from theirs, greeting them all when they looked in the mood for it, small talking, and asking around about which radio station to tune to for the day.

His duties were not as physical as Strongarm's and Grimlock's. He did a fast inventory with Fixit and adjusted the menu based on what Grimlock had to cook with that day. He turned all the lights on and refilled the energon dispenser in the break room. He even made sure to cover up Sideswipe with a tarp. Their half-hour to prepare was over too soon, and Bumblebee was the one to open the front door.

Almost as soon as Bumblebee opened, there was The Customer, already up and ready to meet them with a smile on his face and a dollar coin in his claws. While Strongarm kept a quiet watch from the door, Bumblebee followed him to the counter, letting Fixit stay near the register. "Welcome back."

"Hello again, _sir_," purred The Customer with obvious glee. "I'm surprised to see you open again today."

Bumblebee felt the jab in his spark. He quickly pictured The Customer's head falling off and rolling out the door, and he managed a smile. He couldn't help but put himself between The Customer and the hallway, though, subtly blocking Fixit from view with his winglet. "Yeah, you can't get us out of the game that easily."

"So I've noticed!" The Customer chirped. He thumbed the coin in his claws without thought. "It warms my spark to see it. I've seen so many starting businesses fold far too quickly."

"Make a habit of checking in on young entrepreneurs?"

"I do, actually. And I'm going to keep doing it today. An espresso lungo, please, and my card."

Grimlock's head poked out of the kitchen. "What's a 'lungo'?"

"It's an espresso pulled from between 18 to 30 seconds know for it's pitter pats-" Bumblebee felt every twitch as Fixit struggled for his words. "Twitterpate-" and there came the whack. "BITTER TASTE!"

"Look, let me show you how to make it." Strongarm quickly swooped into the kitchen with Grimlock, quickly enough to let Bumblebee know how uncomfortable The Customer was making her. They spoke in hushed tones, quiet as they could be to hear what The Customer had to say.

Paper flicked, and from some hidden pocket, Steeljaw slipped a business card and the dollar coin into Bee's hand. Bumblebee didn't get the chance to read it before he continued, "My name is Steeljaw, and my business is to help those young business owners who get in over their heads. If you start to struggle, I'll be there to help you get back on your feet."

"Thanks." Bumblebee thusly put the card away without reading it. "We'll be sure to let you know."

Steeljaw chuckled deep in his chest. "_Trust me_, sir. I'll already know. Now, my espresso and your name, if you would."

Every fiber of his carbon was telling him to keep Steeljaw far, far away from him and his friends and his business, but he couldn't risk a bad review on their second day. It was through a mouthful of sour tastes and bad intuition that he growled out, "Bumblebee."

The shop was stone-silent. Fixit took the money and gave change without so much as looking at the massive Decepticon, and Grimlock's optics peered out at Steeljaw through the serving window. Strongarm left the kitchen and loomed in the hallway, half blocked from Steeljaw's gaze and half glaring with crossed arms and pursed lips.

"Bumblebee." Steeljaw raised his tiny cup in a toast, the whole store's optics on him. "Fixit. Strongam. _Dinobot_."

Said Dinobot nearly launched himself out of his serving window, broad shoulders filling up the little expanse and keeping Steeljaw's optics out of his kitchen. "Grimlock!"

"Grimlock, of course. Good to meet all of you." Steeljaw smiled with sharp, clean fangs. "I look forward to being such an _important_ part of your future. Good day."

Steeljaw turned with a curl of his tail and swaggered out the door, Strongarm's optics on him all the while. He took a seat at an outdoor table and sipped at his drink, watching the street.

"I don't like him," Grimlock stated. "His face needs a good punchin'."

"We had people like him on Cybertron. Fixit." Bumblebee passed Fixit Steeljaw's business card. "Run his name through a search engine for me? See what his deal is."

Fixit snatched up the little card and opened up a search engine window on the register's touch screen. "On it!"

"So... what is he?" Strongarm asked.

"If I'm reading him right, he makes a living buying up failing businesses and gutting them to sell back in pieces to bigger franchises." His head started to ache at the thought. He raised his hands to rub his temples, but froze in place when Grimlock started doing it for him. "Uh... yeah. We probably painted a big red target on ourselves yesterday."

"Nothing in the first three pages, Bumblebee!" Fixit reported. "Should I keep looking?"

"No, Fixit, we're fine. As long as he doesn't do anything to us, we can't do anything about him."

Strongarm puffed out a relieved breath. "We need music. I'll put the radio on."

"Thanks, Strongarm." Bumblebee grinned. "You can stop rubbing my head now, Grimlock."


	8. Chapter 8

Finding Our Place, ch. 8

Disclaimer: Transformers: Robots in Disguise coffee shop alternate universe fanfic. All characters are owned by their respective companies, not me, and I write this for fun, not profit, purposes. Developed in tandem with Opatoes, who came up with the original idea. Please support the official release.

* * *

"Sideswipe, get up. Go work."

Sideswipe predictably groaned and turned over in his chair. "Fihmormins..."

"I let you sleep for two hours already."

"TWO HOURS?!"

Sideswipe flushed with fear and embarrassment and no small amount of confusion at waking up in someplace he didn't recognize. At first, in his muggy boot-up, he thought he was in a waiting room, with its chairs in a square around a table with datapad magazines. Bumblebee stood over him, though, and he remembered quick that this was his new break room at his new job and his new boss telling him that he'd been asleep for two hours.

Bumblebee was smiling, though. "You needed it. But now there's a lot of people walking the street, and we need you to get their attention. Go get your wheel."

"Wheel, yeah... get the wheel." Sideswipe's cry wheel, yes, where was his-

"I put it in the supply closet. To your right."

"Right." Automatically going right until he hit a door, Sideswipe opened up a broom closet filled with strong cleaners, leftover paint, and his cyr wheel. The stink hit Sideswipe in the face harder than the pavement ever had. "GAKH- Oh, dude! Treat her with respect! She's not a broom! She was expensive!"

The yellow mech's smile immediately fell, and his winglets hiked up high to give him some height on Sideswipe. "Oh yes, how dare I put it in a closet safely away from the public eye."

Bumblebee was grumpy, and that was good. Sideswipe didn't know how to deal with a smiling boss. Grumpy bosses, he could handle, and he comfortably fell into his normal smirk and swagger. He unloaded his cyr wheel with as much dignity as he could trying to fit a big round metal loop through a rectangle. "So, morning been slow, happy bot?"

"Slow enough to where Strongarm and I could take care of the lobby ourselves," Bumblebee growled. "But steady enough to where we're not idling. Grimlock wanted me to ask how you feel about fresh bread-"

"Hell yeah! Tell him I like the slices right in the middle." He kicked a mop loose from the bottom of his wheel and popped it back into the closet. He grinned at the satisfying crash of supplies falling to the floor. "Buttered and toasted."

"- for the customers." Bumblebee's arms crossed. Sideswipe could see him gripping his elbows in a tight, controlling death grasp to keep his temper. "Either way, I'm going to be in the office ordering the iron flour. Just pull in some people for lunch, and we can have an empty store for our break afterwards." Bumblebee's optics narrowed the tiniest bit, and Sideswipe could feel the warning glare. He cocked his hip while Bumblebee put on his best Leader Voice. "Try not to mouth off to anyone outside."

"Hey! I am a perfectly polite think fast."

With a deft little kick, Sideswipe popped the cyr wheel over Bumblebee's head. He kicked it up with his toe, caught it in his hands at knee level, and pulled forward. Bumblebee would flop flat on his back, Sideswipe would be on top, and everything outside of this would be smooth sailing.

Bumblebee, with barely a yelp, fell back into a handspring. That was as much as Sideswipe caught before he was face-first against the wall, arm pinned behind his back, for the second time in two days.

"OW OW OW I WAS JUST FOOLING LEMME GO-"

"Stop it." Bumblebee snarled into his ear. "I'm gonna call this a second strike. If I see you pulling a stunt like that with any of the customers, you are immediately fired."

"Woah, what? Second strike? I didn't even get a first one!"

"That was the grafitti. Now go. Work."

Bumblebee squeezed his wrist right on his primary cable, not enough to hurt. It was an directed pressure, though, and strong enough to make Sideswipe shudder. He didn't fall for the trip, he was smart enough to target that pressure point, and strong enough to hit it while forcing him into a wall. Sideswipe thought he'd just had another sucker for a boss, like his last five, but no, this mech was suddenly scary underneath the angry eyebrows and the yellow.

He left for downstairs in a hurry.

He had to come back upstairs for his wheel, but he left.

After napping for so long, going outside into the sunlight was a shock. Almost all of the buildings were fresh concrete, reflective and clean, and obnoxiously bright on his tired optics. The sun was already beating down on the darker parts of his shell. The street was nice and empty, but the sidewalks weren't. There are already flocked with random folks, and even just stepping outside, curious people went into the shop to see what kind of coffee shop produced muscle cars with cyr wheels. Maybe this wouldn't be so hard.

Grimlock poked his head out of the door. "Hey, Sideswipe! You gonna do the thing?"

This was going to be hard. Sideswipe didn't look back, just trudged into the street with cyr wheel. "Yes, Grimlock. I'm going to do the thing."

"I wanna watch!"

"You're free to watch, Grimlock."

Ready to tune out the world, Sideswipe put down his wheel and kicked off.

Every mech on the street became a smudge in his peripheral vision. A tiny tensing of his leg set the wheel spinning on the rim like a dropped coin, fingers fanning out of the way of the ground in a pulsing wave rhythm. He has practiced enough to spin himself into oblivion and never suffer a scratch. The only thing keeping him from launching into a spinning sky was his one tie to the ground, a single point of speed that pushed him faster and launched him up, whipped him down. He whipped around the air, street and clouds rocketing past his head until everything was a roar in his audio receptors.

Every action was its own response. Spinning his toe kept him off the concrete. Squeezing his fist sent the wheel flying towards his hand. If the world got too slow, he made it faster. If the sky got too big, he turned on his head and made the Earth the sky. Sideswipe was his own world here. A wall of metal kept everyone away. Here, he was control. He was chaos. He was alone and the master of his universe.

A comet struck his surface, rattling him out of orbit. "WOOOO SIDESWIPE!"

Grimlock struck the surface, and Sideswipe's world was destroyed. Coming down from his cloud, Sideswipe brought the wheel to a slow stop and stepped out back to the ground... to applause.

There was money coating the ground, coins and bills alike. People were looking at him like he was important, smiling and cheering for the work he did.

Leading them all was Grimlock. "Isn't he great?! WOOO! SIDESWIPE'S THE BEST!"

"Um- I- YES!" He was! He is! Sideswipe kicked out his wheel in a flourish and caught it up in his hand. "I am the best! Thank you everybody! I'll be doing this all day! Hey, don't forget, come on over to Our Place! It's where I work when I'm not doin' this! We've got muffins! And fresh bread soon, isn't that right, Grimlock?"

"YEAH! BREAD!" Grimlock caught up the crowd's attention. "Little bread! I bake it! It's gonna be awesome!"

With the attention off of him, Sideswipe ducked back into the door, bolting for the staircase to put away his wheel until next time. Halfway up the stairs, he met Bumblebee on his way back down. This time, seeing him automatically grimace hurt a little. "Sideswipe."

"Hey, uh-! Bee! Hi. Um... people!" He hiked his wheel up higher on his shoulder and pressed against the wall, making room for Bumblebee to pass. He figured he should apologize for earlier, but apologizing was so messy and awkward... "Um... Stuff's about to get really busy, so I'm gonna wash my hands and stuff and be right down, okay? You worked all morning, you need a break."

Bumblebee froze in thought, watching him, assessing him like his last five bosses.

Bumblebee smiled. "Glad to have you back with us."


End file.
